Ominous Remembrance: Dreamless | Dreamer | [Jeff The Killer Fanfic/ Romance]

[Dreamless] Prologue - Profound Romance

 Ominous Remembrance 

[Jeff The Killer Fanfic/Romance]

Prologue: Profound Romance

The feeling was...exhilarating.

If I tried describing it, anybody could think that I'm overdoing the description. But that's it. He was manipulating every emotion that he had awakened, and he's overdoing it.

I never realized that he was good at it. Maybe I was too blunt to apprehend the fatality that I had pushed myself into. It never occurred to me that I'll eventually feel this painful perfection-- of him and me...together. It seemed so complete...bursting of hope and promises unsaid.

The security of gaining a murderer's trust and giving yours in return could be unimaginable, but priceless. It seemed more like an illusion, his warmth radiating against my skin, his lips fitting perfectly against mine, and my fingers latched on his uneven black hair which I found much comfort in grasping from time to time. The scene that I had once pictured in my dull fantasies, or my most ridiculous  'daydreams'.

This illusion-like emotion could feel perfect. But this is also murderous. Gradually, I broke away from that unnerving kiss, and stared at his eyes.

His unblinking, near lifeless eyes.

Should I let him know that I was seriously pleased? I never thought that I would actually feel such detailed pleasure that coursed and sent cold shivers down on my spine all the while he was kissing me. And I did the same lately--not mechanically-- but also with fluid, barely describable emotions. It was way too painful to be perceived as romance, my heart was skittering uncontrollably, and I can barely get my breathing right.

Not mentioning that we're doing the same thing for almost a week, and this is my first successful attempt of feeling this tiny spark that awakened the fizzling butterflies in my stomach. Am I feeling happiness? Fear, because this will soon be over and I'll lose him? Concern, because I never saw a psychopath brood in such misery and guilt, lose his vigor and his enthusiasm? Sadness, because these quiet moments will never last?

Am I already falling in love? Or this is just a moment when I realized everything that took place?

The moment I cleared my head, the emotions simply...vanished. I could have felt intense frustration, but it doesn't matter. Suddenly, I just lost it.

"Hey. feeling much better now?" I asked. Jeff stared at me with a drunken look on his eyes. At times like this, he's unpredictable. Sometimes, I hated seeing him in these serious situations, his mocking grin that scarred his cheeks make moments insincere.

He made no attempt to answer. We stared at each other, amidst in the cool, droning silence of the night.

How can such perfection vanish instantly? Does it only exist if he's there, holding me? That's it. I'm feeling...discontentment. I don't want to let him go. Our time...it's never enough.

Who cares if he's such a psychopath? Who cares, if I'm not supposed to trust him in the first place?

Thoughtlessly, I grasped his arm and pulled him close. Close enough to hear him gasp slightly, perhaps in surprise. He's going to push me away, perhaps? Then he'll start teasing me again, or threaten to chase me with his knife for my impulsive actions.

None of those things happened. Jeff instantaneously crashed on my chest, and I hit my back against the headboard of the bed where we are currently sitting. At first, I thought he'll just pull away, because he suddenly stiffened at our sudden intimate contact. But he gradually sighed, as if relieved.

Mom hugs me before, and I felt a bit stupid now to be blunt, not to feel the slightest tinge of compassion. I was well loved. I felt it. I want to return it, but I was too emotionless to do so. But how about Jeff? Since he killed his parents and his brother— when was the last time somebody hugged him instantly, without warning or words?

And not to mention the fact that sometimes when he embraces me, I was the first one to push him off…

For a moment, he shifted slightly and slipped his sleeved arms on my waist.

Without gazing at his artificial smile, or his dark, burn-rimmed eyes, everything almost seemed…normal. He hugged me back—tightly—as if he was the very reflection of my newly revived emotions of never wanting to let go.

"Aren’t you afraid…that I’m going to stick a knife on your back?”

I just buried my face on his black hair. I caught the scent of the forest, the cooling complementary smell of rainwater, the mild trace of ironic blood and the lingering, ominous aura of tragedy. “Should I be afraid?”

"Of course, stupid. You should,” he mumbled faintly.

"Don’t worry. I will be afraid about it soon,” I replied calmly. But honestly, it just felt nothing. Hollow and empty, like I always did. I pulled up the quilts above his head. Hopefully, the darkness will help him sleep, and somehow, he’ll fall asleep first before I do. "Good night.”

"um… Louise?”

"Yes?”

"Go to sleep.”

His statement was nostalgic. How can a few words cause a lot of memories to flash back? I looked away, the darkness of my own room meeting my gaze.

"Oh. I will. Soon. ”

~~~

So..hopefully you liked it ; ~ ; . I am just overly inspired when I did this, and... I'm not sure if I'll continue. Anyways, if you want me to continue, just...let me know. :D please vote or comment. Thank you, and thank you for reading

Disclaimer: I don't own Jeff. :3 I'm just a fan of creepypasta. But I own Louise Addams. :33 And The picture for the cover, you'll find it here >> [http://www.zerochan.net/1498823 ] My cousin just edited it for me. xD